


The Bond Between Us

by Briar_Rose7



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, all the feels, post 6x13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 06:25:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briar_Rose7/pseuds/Briar_Rose7
Summary: After learning what Gideon went through with the Black Fairy, Belle needs to talk to her son. Gideon has never felt loved, and his parents are more than determined to fix that.Nominated for Best Comfort Fic in The Espenson Awards 2018





	The Bond Between Us

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this after 6x13, so it doesn't take into account anything that happened after that, including Gideon's heart being taken. I hope you'll like it, because I really liked working on this.
> 
> Infinte thanks to [ stillsearching47](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stillsearching47/pseuds/stillsearching47), my amazing beta.

Belle was sobbing quietly in the back room of the pawn shop, her heart breaking as Rumplestiltskin told her what he’d learned about Gideon’s past.

“What kind of monster raised our child?” she whimpered helplessly. “How could I let this happen to him? I sent him away because I thought it was his best chance, and look at what happened. It’s my fault,” she sobbed, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. She couldn’t live like this, she couldn’t bear the thought that her son had never known love in his life because of her. 

Rumplestiltskin tentatively wrapped his arms around Belle, trying to soothe her, and when he realized that the gesture wasn’t unwelcome he tightened the embrace, almost crushing her to his chest, as if his hug could prevent her from falling apart.

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart. You thought I had sped up your pregnancy, you believed you were doing the right thing. You couldn’t know what was going to happen,” he whispered in her ear.

At first, he’d been furious at Belle for sending away their child; to him, it was like she’d abandoned their son. After a while, however, he’d had to admit to himself that she’d had her reasons; he’d behaved horribly for the past few weeks, leading her to think he really was the beast everyone assumed him to be. Speeding up her pregnancy would have been the point of no return, and she’d thought he’d done just that. She’d had to give birth at an unnatural time; she’d been alone, tired and scared, and he really couldn’t blame her for making one wrong choice. He’d made way too many mistakes to judge Belle for hers. 

“I need to see him,” Belle said, her voice turning more determined. “I need to talk to him, to tell him that I’m sorry, and that I love him. I can’t bear the thought of what the Black Fairy did to him, and I need him to know what having a real family feels like.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He wanted nothing more than to shower Gideon with love and affection, but would his son be ready to accept them?

“Do you know where he is?” Belle asked.

He did. After Rumplestiltskin had shown his son that he was ready to work with him, he’d offered Gideon to come live in the pink mansion with him. Gideon had refused, but he hadn’t turned down his offer to live in his cabin in the woods. Rumplestiltskin could understand the choice; the cabin was well hidden and isolated, and it suited Gideon’s need to keep some distance between himself and his parents. Rumplestiltskin had promised him  that they would defeat the Black Fairy, but Gideon likely knew that living with his father would have led to endless attempts to change his mind about Emma Swan. 

Rumplestiltskin magicked Belle and himself outside of the cabin, hoping that his son was still in there, and that he wasn’t already off to cause more damage in town. 

“Rumple, would you mind waiting here? I want to talk to him alone,” Belle asked him, her eyes never leaving the cabin, trying to spot any sign of her son’s presence.

Rumplestiltskin nodded, and she stepped towards the cabin, only to be stopped by a protection spell before she could even knock. 

“Gideon, please, I’m your mother. Let me in, I just want to talk,” she screamed, hoping that her son would listen to her. 

No answer came, and she called him again. Right when she was about to lose hope, the cabin’s door opened, and Gideon suspiciously looked at her from the threshold.

“What do you want, mother? Nothing you could ever say will change my mind,” he said, his voice firm but not cold. It was clear that he cared for her more than he cared for his father. 

“I don’t want to change your mind. Actually, I don’t want to talk about Emma or the Black Fairy at all. I just want to spend some time with you. Two days ago I was holding you as a newborn in my arms, and now you’re twenty eight years older. We lost so much time, I simply don’t want to lose any more of it. Let me just be a mother and talk to my son,” Belle pleaded, tears forming in her eyes. 

Gideon looked touched by her words, but he eyed his father suspiciously. 

“What is he doing here?” he asked.

“Nothing. I asked him where you were, and he brought me here. This isn’t about him, this is about you and me. Please, Gideon, let me in,” Belle pleaded again.

Gideon finally gave in. With a wave of his hand, the spell keeping Belle out was gone. She sprinted towards the door, pulling it closed once she was in. She wanted Gideon to know that this was really only about them, that Rumplestiltskin wouldn't interfere. Her son had his back to her, and she carefully stepped closer to him, lightly resting her hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at her, almost startled by her touch.

“I… why don’t you sit, mother?” he suggested, flushing with embarrassment. He really didn’t know what to do, or how to deal with this. Growing up with the Black Fairy hadn’t exactly prepared him for heart to hearts. 

Belle nodded in agreement, then realized that there was only one chair in the room. Actually, there was very little in the room at all: besides the chair, there was only a table, where the sword of the prophecy was resting, and a small cot placed at an angle. The place didn’t feel like a home; hell, it didn’t even feel like a shelter. It looked more like a prison, and Belle felt her heart break again at the realization that this was probably the only kind of life Gideon knew. She didn’t want to bring attention to that; she had to take things one step at a time, so she sat on the table, bringing the chair as close to it as possible, and gesturing at Gideon to sit on it. 

“Do you always sit like that?” he asked her, smiling a little at her lack of manners. 

“No, not really. I used to do it a lot at Rumple’s castle, but I haven’t done it in a while. Apparently, it’s a thing I only do with family,” she told him, a sad smile forming on her face. She was trying to take in everything about her son at once. His hair, his eyes, the way he smiled, which was so similar to his father’s…

“Why are you here, mother?” Gideon asked her, still confused about her presence. 

“I’m here because I love you,” Belle murmured, her hand coming to rest gently on his cheek. “I’m here because we’ve been robbed of our time together, and I want to apologize for that. I’m your mother, I should have protected you, I should have kept you close, and instead I…” she stopped to take in a shuddering breath, fighting to hold back the tears. “I let all of this happen to you. Rumple has told me of what the Black Fairy did to you, and I’m so sorry, I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you from her, I’m sorry that I was never there to lull you to sleep, I’m sorry that you had to go through so much pain alone. I’m here to give you all the love you deserved but never received,” she concluded, hopping off of the table to wrap her arms around her son.

Gideon went stiff in her hug, and Belle started crying, wishing that he would hug her back, heartbroken at the idea that he was so unused to affection that he didn’t know how to react.

“I love you, Gideon,” she repeated. “I don’t care if you’re a hero or not, I don’t care if you defeat the Black Fairy or not, I just want you to be safe and happy.”

Gideon had gotten up so that she wouldn’t strain her back to hug him, and slowly, tentatively, he wrapped his own arms around her. He didn’t know what to do, or what to think. He’d dreamed of his mother so many times, but after all these years everything was simply too complicated. Had she come when he was still a child, he would have cried in relief and let her soothe all of his pain, but now? After twenty eight years with the Black Fairy, anything different from pain and isolation didn’t actually feel real. Instead it felt like a nice dream that, just like his childish hope that his mother would one day come to save him, was destined to fade. He knew there had been a time when he wasn’t like this, when his heart was still ready and willing to accept love, but that time was long gone. He wasn’t indifferent to his mother’s feelings, but he didn’t know how to react to them. 

“Please, stop crying,” he tried, wishing he knew how to make her feel better. 

Belle sniffed loudly and took a few deep breaths, trying to compose herself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” she said in a trembling voice. “I was supposed to comfort you, not the other way around.”

“I don’t need to be comforted,” Gideon scoffed, his voice and demeanor turning stern once again.

Belle gasped at the slight but undeniable change in her son’s behavior. It was really astonishing how Gideon, who had never even seen his father for the first twenty eight years of his life, behaved just like him. He was hiding behind a mask, just like she’d seen Rumplestiltskin do so many times. The only difference was the role they’d imposed on themselves; Rumplestiltskin had always been the villain, while Gideon was utterly determined to play the part of the hero. Belle, however, could see through Gideon’s mask just as easily as she’d always seen through her husband’s. 

“I doubt that. You’ve been taken from your parents, raised by a monster and recently almost killed by the Savior. I’d say that you need a lot of comfort and love to make up for all of that,” Belle insisted, her hands clinging desperately to Gideon’s arms, keeping him close. “It’s not a shame to cry, Gideon. It’s not a shame to be scared, or to have a moment of weakness. All heroes do.”

Belle was fairly sure she could see the glint of tears in her son’s eyes.

“You don’t understand, mother. The Black Fairy has already shown me that I don’t have what it takes to defeat her. If I want to succeed, I need to toughen up, I need to be strong.”

Belle shook her head. “Believe me, suppressing your feelings won’t make you stronger, it will only make you unhappy. A hero’s real strength lies in their heart, and that kind of strength only increases when you let people in. Loving someone and dealing with all the fears and pain that come with that feeling, _that_ is what really makes you strong.”

Gideon stepped away from her, clearly upset. “Those are beautiful words, mother, but the force of the Savior’s magic is the only thing that will allow me to defeat the Black Fairy. Love won’t help me against her. Of course, I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Oh, but I do,” Belle told him, and Gideon looked at her in surprise. “I know what it feels like when you desperately want to be a hero, to help those in need, but nothing you do is ever enough, and every one of your plans seems to backfire. I know what it feels like to think that you’re not good enough, brave enough or strong enough. I know what it is like to feel responsible for someone else’s troubles, or when you blame yourself for the pain others have to suffer.”

“You do?” Gideon asked, bewildered. 

“Indeed. I’ve felt like that so many times I’ve lost count. My mother was a hero; she died to save me from the ogres, and I’ve been trying to live up to her legacy ever since then, but with little success,” Belle admitted. “Soon after she died, I went on a journey to find a way to restore my last memories of her. I met a girl on the road, a princess who was kind enough to help me, but when she needed me, when I had the chance to save her, I was too busy trying to restore my memories, and she had to endure so much pain because of that.” 

She’d made many mistakes in her life, but that was one of the ones she regretted the most, one that filled her with shame every time she thought about it. Very few people knew about it, and she would have liked to never mention it again, but she wouldn’t stay silent if her story could help her son. 

“What do you think it feels like, to be a tiny, weak librarian in this world full of soldiers and sorcerers? I’m not strong, I’m not powerful, and no matter how much I try to tell myself that I can handle everything that comes at me, it’s not true. I try to be a hero, but more often than not I’m the one in need of saving. I know the fears and doubts you’re experiencing, I’ve gone through all of them before you, Gideon, and if you let me, I could help you,” Belle finished, closing the distance between them once again.

Her words had left Gideon speechless. He’d believed his mother a hero, a model of perfection to look up to, yet here she was, telling him that she was just as scared as him. He’d grown to despise the cowardice in himself, the cowardice he’d apparently inherited from his father, but he couldn’t bring himself to judge his mother for being afraid. Nothing about her, about the way she was facing him and resisting his repeated attempts to drive her away, gave him the impression that she might be a coward. For a moment, he thought that she might be just pretending to know how he felt, so that she could steer him off his path, but he quickly discarded that option. He could sense the honesty in her words, and the regret in her voice; she was telling the truth. This only left him with one option to consider; that his mother was more like him than he could have imagined, and maybe, just _maybe_ , she could help him. 

“How?” Gideon whispered, not quite daring to hope.

“By telling you what your father has told me time and time again: that you _are_ good enough, and that I believe in you. I may not have raised you, but I’m your mother, I can see the goodness in you, and I believe that you must have been incredibly strong to keep that goodness in your heart after twenty eight years of torture. I’m _proud_ of you, of how hard you’re trying to do the right thing, and I will never judge you for failing once, twice or even a million times. You may think you need to hide your weaknesses in front of everyone else, but you never need to do that with me. I named you Gideon after the hero in my favorite book, but not because I wanted to set some impossible standard for you to try and live up to; I named you Gideon because I wanted you to remember the importance of being kind and compassionate, and that love is always worth fighting for,” Belle concluded, feeling overwhelmed by the number of things she wanted to say, but couldn’t put into words. How could she sum up, in a few minutes of conversation, everything she would have liked to teach him in a lifetime?

Gideon was looking more confused than ever, and he was blinking furiously to chase away the tears. “What do you expect me to do now?” he asked in a whisper.

Belle took his hands in hers, smiling at him hopefully. “Give me, and your father, a chance. We’re here for you, to support you and protect you, and if defeating the Black Fairy is so important to you, we’ll help you, but not at the cost of your soul. Let us show you what having a family feels like, and you’ll realize how much stronger that can make you,”

Gideon was torn. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go, what his mother was suggesting didn’t fit in his plan; it could ruin everything he had been working so hard for. Her presence made him feel weird, made him feel _vulnerable,_ like he could start crying at any moment. It was like all the years he’d spent learning how to bottle up his pain and use it to become stronger had never existed. Belle made him wish he were still a kid, that he could seek protection in her arms and be told that everything would be okay. She was dangerous because she reminded him that he was still nothing but a coward. At the same time, however, he found himself unwilling to turn her down. He didn’t want to send her away, he didn’t want to upset her, not when she was smiling at him like he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid her eyes upon. She’d said she knew how he felt, that she could help, and hadn’t he come to this word for this, to find something that could help him defeat the Black Fairy? Maybe what he was looking for wasn’t something, but _someone_.

“What do you want me to do, mother?” he asked again.

“Let’s start with something simple,” Belle suggested, her smile widening at the realization that her son was listening to her. “Why don’t you come over for lunch tomorrow? Or for breakfast, or even just tea. Just come over, and let us take care of you like we should have done all your life.” Belle sniffed at the thought, her eyes glinting with tears once again. 

“Is that all? No requests, no pleading for me not to kill Emma, nothing? Just a shared meal?” Gideon pressed, confused by his mother’s request. 

“I told you, this isn’t about Emma, this is about us, about our family. Sure, it would be better if you didn’t do anything irreparable before coming over, but I really want you to understand that I’m not trying to force you into anything. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned with your father, it’s that you can’t force someone to change. I tried doing that with him and I only hurt us both. Now I realize that everyone has to choose their own path, but that being loved and supported can make everything far easier; that’s exactly what I want to do for you,” she explained. 

All that had happened in the past few days had forced her to think, and she’d had to admit that she’d made many mistakes with Rumplestiltskin. She’d tried to force him into being better without any concern for all the traumas he’d endured, acting as if he could simply change his life in the blink of an eye. She’d tried to rush things, and they had fallen apart because of that. He had been so afraid that she would reject him for not being good enough, that he’d always tried to hide his backslides from her. Now, with her son so lost in his own ominous plan, she could see clearly how forcing him to stop would accomplish nothing. They’d delay him for a while, but if they didn’t actually help him, if they didn’t take care of the issue that was making him behave this way, sooner or later he’d find a way around them, and they’d be right back at square one. 

“So I just… turn up at your door at lunch time? Where do you want me to come anyway? At the library, the shop, my father’s house?” Gideon asked, bringing her back to reality. 

“Oh, right. I’d say your father’s house, it’s the most spacious. He’ll be elated,” Belle decided, cheerfully hugging him again. “How about 12.30? You won’t regret this, I promise.”

Gideon simply nodded, once again overwhelmed by his mother’s closeness. He was taking a big risk, but he couldn’t bring himself to refuse Belle’s offer, not when her arms were making him feel more at home than he’d ever felt during the past twenty eight years.

* * *

When he rung the bell at the salmon house, Gideon didn’t know what to expect. His mother opened the door wearing a stained apron, but she quickly tossed it aside before wrapping him in another of her welcoming hugs. She carried along a wonderful smell, one that Gideon couldn’t quite recognize, but he was fairly certain that it was food of some description.

Belle closed the door behind him, practically dragging him towards the kitchen, where Rumplestiltskin was carefully taking something out of the oven.

“What is that?” Gideon asked, intrigued.

For some reason, his question made his father’s expression turn sadder. Rumplestiltskin immediately tried to school his features into a more neutral expression, but Gideon had spent twenty eight years trying to guess the Black Fairy’s mood from her face, and that had taught him to read people pretty well.

“It’s… It’s a lasagna. Not the frozen one they make at Granny’s, this is fresh and homemade,” Rumplestiltskin stammered. 

He had thought he was prepared to meet his son; they had already talked a couple of times after all. Now, however, Rumplestiltskin realized that he didn’t know what to do, or what to say. His son was here in front of him, almost three decades older than what would have been normal, and this time there weren’t any pressing issues and evil plans to keep them occupied. There was nothing to shield him from the pain that would come from this meeting, starting with the fact that his son didn’t know anything about this world, that things that should have been normal for him since birth had been denied to him. 

“Trust me, it’s delicious,” Belle told Gideon, seeing the distress in Rumplestiltskin’s eyes, and trying to alleviate the tension. “But if you don’t like it, don’t worry, there’s plenty of other things. We didn’t know what you liked, so we cooked a bit of everything,” she chirped, trying to hide her own nervousness.

When Belle eventually led him to the dining table, Gideon realized that his mother’s words had probably been the understatement of the century. They hadn’t prepared ‘a bit of everything’, they’d made enough food to feed all of the children in the mines for a month. Every flat surface in the room was covered in trays and pots, most of them filled with foods he couldn’t even name. He turned around to face his mother, too shocked to form words.

“Yes, I admit that we may have got a bit carried away. It’s just that it was so hard to choose only a few things to cook, and I was so excited that I couldn’t stand still anyway, and things got a bit out of control,” Belle explained.

“Did you even sleep last night?” Gideon asked incredulously. 

“Honestly? No, we didn’t,” came Rumple’s voice as he entered the room with the lasagna. “Belle dozed for a couple of hours on the couch, but I don’t need sleep, so I carried on.”

It had been a strange evening for Rumplestiltskin and Belle. Everything between them was still uncertain and even tense at times, but they had been more than willing to work together for their son. When Belle had told him that Gideon had agreed to come for lunch, Rumplestiltskin had been overjoyed, and there had been no need to talk to understand that they would prepare everything together. It had been awkward at first, standing together in the kitchen discussing what they should do next, feeling the echo of the domesticity they’d once shared, and realizing with a pang of regret that they still knew each other so well, but they didn’t know their son at all. Cooking together had reminded them of all they’d once had, of the intimacy of living together and sharing every daily chore. Rumplestiltskin hadn’t quite expected Belle to spend the night at his house, yet it had happened, and it was already three in the morning when he’d realized it.

Around that time, Belle had gone to the living room to lay the latest tray full of food on the table. Several minutes later she hadn’t returned, and when Rumplestiltskin had gone to check on her, he’d found her asleep on the couch. Her hair was in disarray, her feet dangling off the edge of the couch, her high heels dangerously close to slipping off and falling to the floor. Rumplestiltskin’s heart had clenched in nostalgia at the sight of his estranged wife, realizing that in another time, in what felt like another life, he would have picked her up in his arms and carried her to bed, _their_ bed, where she could spend the night more comfortably. Instead, all he did was put a blanket over her, and take her shoes off so that they wouldn’t fall and wake her. He didn’t dare to touch her, so he used magic to do all of it, his eyes shining with unshed tears at the thought of all he’d lost. 

“And you… you didn’t use any magic for this? For any of it?” Gideon checked, brining his father back to the present and out of his wistful thinking. 

“I used magic to keep everything warm and fresh until now,” Rumplestiltskin told him. “Aside from that, no, we didn’t use any magic.”

Gideon felt as though he couldn’t breathe. Of course, he knew that parents were supposed to be far more loving that the Black Fairy had been, but that didn’t mean he was ready for it. Technically, the way his father had agreed to support him in his plan should have been more meaningful to him than some food, but somehow it wasn’t. Restoring the sword had been all about magic and schemes; it had been cold, impersonal, and had allowed Gideon to keep a safe distance from Rumplestiltskin. All of this, the hours and the work his parents had dedicated to him, meant so much more than anything else. They could have presented him with the Black Fairy’s head on a silver platter, and he wouldn’t have been so happy, he wouldn’t have felt so touched by their support.

“You didn’t have to do all of this, not for me,” he muttered.

“Maybe we didn’t have to, but we wanted to,” Belle insisted. “We love you, Gideon.”

Belle lightly stroked his arm, sensing the tension in him and trying to alleviate it with a soothing gesture. 

“I think I need to sit down for a moment,” Gideon admitted, lowering himself into the nearest chair.

“Is something wrong?” Rumplestiltskin worried immediately.

“No, no, I just need a moment.”

“Do you want to drink something? Maybe some tea?” Belle suggested. 

Gideon nodded. A warm cup of tea was exactly what he needed to settle his nerves and start thinking clearly once again. His doubts about coming here had proven well-founded; being with his parents was making him feel weak again. After only a few minutes with them, he already found himself fantasizing about telling them all about the Black Fairy, seeking their comfort and support. In no time at all, he was growing attached to them, and that was a weakness he shouldn’t indulge. The most troubling thing was that, even though he was well aware of this, he didn’t want to leave.

“I know this isn’t what you were expecting, but why don’t you try this tea?” Belle said, handing him a glass, and bringing him out of his reverie.

“It’s cold,” Gideon noticed as soon as he took the glass in his hand. Wasn’t tea supposed to be hot? This was supposed to be tea?

“Yes, it’s iced tea. Strange, isn’t it? Weird food is one of the perks of living in this world.” A small smile formed on Belle’s lips as she recalled a long gone day, when Rumplestiltskin had made an equally silly remark about condiments.

Gideon curiously eyed his mother, then the glass of tea, and eventually took a cautious sip of the beverage. His brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, and Belle’s face fell a little.

“A bit _too_ weird maybe?” she asked.

“No, it’s just that I… I’ve never had it iced before. It… It’s delicious,” Gideon said eventually, his lips curling into a big smile. It was possibly the first real smile Belle and Rumplestiltskin had ever seen on his face.

Belle teared up a bit at his affirmation, and Gideon couldn’t for his life understand why. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked immediately.

She shook her head. “No, of course you didn’t. It’s just that I said the exact same thing when I first tried it, and it’s… it’s nice to hear it from you as well.” 

Belle couldn’t explain how deeply seeing the similarities between her son and herself affected her. It reminded her that Gideon was still part of her, that not even the Black Fairy had managed to break their bond, and that maybe it wasn’t too late for them. 

Rumplestiltskin slowly moved towards Belle to wrap one of his hands around hers, giving her comfort with the only gesture he was sure wouldn’t be too intrusive. Their relationship was still nowhere near fixed, but holding hands was a safe and friendly way to show her that he was here, by her side, and that he’d never leave her alone as long as she didn’t want him to.

“Are you feeling better now?” he gently asked his son, who nodded in response. “Then how about we get ready for lunch? I know you seem really fond of your cape, but if you want, there are some new clothes waiting for you in your room. I thought you might like the change.”

“My room?” 

“Of course. Your mother and I weren’t exactly on good terms when you were born, but that doesn’t mean that I expected you to never set foot in this house.”

Belle cast her eyes down at Rumplestiltskin’s words. He’d been preparing for Gideon’s arrival just like she had been, proving how much he loved their son before he was even born, and yet she’d threatened to keep Gideon from him. What had she been thinking? Sensing her guilt, Rumplestiltskin squeezed her hand reassuringly. The way she’d pushed him away still hurt him terribly, but he understood, and had forgiven her for it. 

“True, I was setting up a nursery, so I had to make a few adjustments in the last couple of days, but there will always be a room for you in this house. There will always be a place for you in our lives, Gideon, no matter how much time we spend apart, or how many mistakes we may make along the way,” Rumplestiltskin went on.

Gideon tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but to no avail. He silently followed his father upstairs, his mother trailing right after them. Rumplestiltskin soon stopped in front of a door, and Gideon felt his heart skip a beat when he noticed there was a wooden plate, with his name carved and painted in gold, on it. Gideon stretched out a trembling hand, took ahold of the handle, and pushed the door open.

The room was fairly simple, at least when compared to the rest of the house. There weren’t any knick-knacks around, but Gideon’s attention was immediately drawn to a small bookcase in the corner, and two photographs on the night stand. He didn’t indulge in his curiosity for them straight away; first of all, he headed towards the big walk-in closet, wanting to see what kind of clothes his father had picked for him.

The array of garments he was presented with was just as impressive as the display of food downstairs. There were a couple of three-pieces suits just like his father’s, but also lots of less imposing clothes. There were simple shirts and warm sweaters, and he really liked the fact that some of them had a hood; it made them look like a comfier version of the cloaks he was used to. What really caught Gideon’s attention, however, was a blue leather jacket. He carefully took it from the hanger, looking at it like it held the answers to all the doubts that were flooding his brain. A part of him wanted to try on the clothes that his father had given him, to put on that jacket that had caught his attention like a magnet, and blend in with this new world. At the same time, however, he felt the instinctive need to hold onto his old garments. His cape, as well as his other clothes, was a part of him, of his history and of who he had become. It was his armor against the cruel world he’d grown up in, and what would the effect be of taking it off, of leaving the past behind to try on something new? Could a simple change of clothes affect who he was, and the choices he was going to make? Gideon hadn’t failed to notice how his father had mostly picked black outfits, probably trying to accomodate his taste, but that he’d also tried to lighten up the tones with a few grey and blue items. It was like Rumplestiltskin was slowly trying to draw him towards the light, starting with his wardrobe. 

Once again overwhelmed by his contrasting emotions, Gideon walked away from the closet, but he didn’t put the leather jacket back in it. Instead, he draped it at the foot of the bed, then finally he gave in to his curiosity and walked towards the bookcase. It wasn’t full, but there were certainly more books on the shelves than he’d seen in his entire life. He read the titles on the spines, picking up the ones that intrigued him the most. It didn’t take him long to realize that all the books had something in common.

“They’re all stories about heroes,” he stated, turning around to face his parents, who were looking at him from the doorway.

“Indeed. All kinds of heroes: men, women, and kids. With or without magic. People who were destined to save the world, and anti-heroes who were dragged into saving it almost without realizing it. To remind you that there isn’t a single way to be a hero, and that you can always choose your path,” Rumplestiltskin explained.

Gideon turned towards the bookcase once again, unable to bear looking at his father after that admission. He knew what Rumplestiltskin was trying to do, but his father didn’t understand, he didn’t know what he’d been through, and he couldn’t see how this was the only path left for him. Still, he appreciated the gesture, and he hoped he could find in the books the hope and the strength he needed to go on. 

He walked away from the bookcase, taking a couple of books with him and laying them on the night stand. His attention was now back to the two photographs on it, and he picked them up one by one to give them a closer look. The first one was the picture of Belle’s sonogram, the only one she’d been able to take. The second one was a picture from his parent’s wedding day. 

“I wanted you to see us happy, to let you see the love you’d been born from,” Rumplestiltskin felt the need to clarify. “When I started setting this all up, I had no idea if you’d ever see me and your mother on civil terms again. I wanted you to have a reminder that we hadn’t always been at odds.” Rumplestiltskin was fiddling with his ring as he spoke, not daring to look into Gideon’s or Belle’s eyes.

“Was I an accident?” Gideon blurted out the question before he could even realize what he was doing. His eyes widened in shock when he realized what he’d just said, but now there was no taking it back.

“What?” his parents asked in unison.

“Were you expecting me, were you planning to start a family together, and then things went south, or was I an unplanned accident when things were already falling apart?”

It was childish to ask, but he needed to know. The Black Fairy had told him, for his entire life, that his parents hadn’t wanted him, that she’d taken him in when nobody else would have. His mother and father looked so welcoming now, but could it be guilt? Could the Black Fairy have been right all along?

Rumplestiltskin and Belle exchanged an embarrassed look, and that didn’t bode well at all. Gideon sat on his bed, steeling himself for the disappointment he was sure was about to come. 

“Gideon, we’ve wanted and loved you since the moment we knew you were on your way to this world,” Belle said, coming closer to kneel in front of him, taking his hands in hers. “I have to admit that we weren’t exactly planning to have a child, but that doesn’t mean that we didn’t want you. We were happy together, and if only life hadn’t gotten in the way, things could have been very different for the three of us.”

“It was my fault,” Rumplestiltskin admitted, coming to sit beside his son on the bed. “All the obstacles your mother is referring to, they were my fault. I lied to her, and that’s what prompted her to push me away once we discovered her pregnancy. Then, because of a deal I made years ago, long before I even met your mother, you were in danger before you were even born, and that drove us further apart. However, if there’s one thing you can be certain of, it’s that I’ve wanted to start a family with Belle for longer than I can remember, and that you are and will always be the most precious gift for us.”

“Please don’t use that word,” Gideon snapped. “She used to call me that, a gift.”

Here, in the safety of his parents’ home, it was almost impossible to quell his fear of the woman that had raised him. The contrast between her and his real parents was so striking that he couldn’t bottle up his emotions anymore, he couldn’t steel his heart against her abuse, and he couldn’t suppress a shiver from running down his spine at the memory of all she’d done to him. Both his mother and father immediately wrapped their arms around him, and Belle rose up from the floor to sit on the bed by his side, across from Rumplestiltskin.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll never use that word again,” Rumplestiltskin whispered against Gideon’s hair. “I know what it feels like, to be scarred by someone like that. I understand your fear all too well.”

“I don’t _want_ to be scared,” Gideon muttered angrily, tears starting to fall down his cheeks at the realization that he really was a coward. 

“It’s perfectly normal for you to be!” Belle remarked. “It’s not the lack of fear that makes a hero. A hero is someone who _is_ afraid, but doesn’t let that stop them from doing the right thing. You’re here now, Gideon, and for better or for worse you’re trying to do the right thing, to defeat the woman who has hurt and keeps hurting hundreds of children. You’re far braver than you give yourself credit for.”

“You want to believe the best about me, mother, but you’re wrong. I’m not strong, I’m not a hero, and I need to kill Emma, even though you don’t want me to. I don’t have much time, the Black Fairy will soon come to drag me back to the Dark Realm, and if I don’t have the powers of the Savior I won’t be able to stop her and she will… she will…” Gideon’s voice broke with a sob, and he struggled to take a few deep breaths, suddenly desperate to let everything out now that he’d started talking. “She’ll hurt me again, and I can’t take it anymore, I just can’t. She’ll come for me, and I’m terrified.”

Gideon was trembling horribly now, his entire body wracked by sobs. Belle and Rumplestiltskin exchanged an agonized look, desperate in front of their son’s pain.

“Gideon, listen to me,” Belle pleaded, cupping her son’s face in her hands. “We won’t let her hurt you ever again. Only a few weeks ago, we had to protect you from the lord of the Underworld himself, and if he didn’t manage to lay a single finger on you, neither will the Black Fairy. You have my word,” she vowed.

“She’ll kill you. She’ll kill you both, and it will be on me. I don’t want to see you die,” Gideon whimpered, burying his face against his mother’s neck.

“She won’t,” Rumplestiltskin reassured him. “I’m the Dark One, remember? I’m immortal, and I will protect you both. The Black Fairy can’t kill me, and as long as I’m alive, I won’t let any harm come to the two of you.”

Gideon gazed at them in turn, as if he were trying to spot the lie in their words. No matter how much he looked, he couldn’t find any. “Mom,” he whispered eventually. “Dad.” 

Everything Gideon would have liked to say after that was lost in another burst of tears. He clung to them like he’d never done before, crying his eyes out on their shoulders. Silent tears fell from his parent’s eyes as well, but both Belle and Rumplestiltskin were aware that this breakdown was a step forward, no matter how much it hurt them to see their son like this. Gideon was finally letting them in, acknowledging the pain he’d endured and no longer trying to deny it. The sheer fact that he’d called them ‘mom and dad’ for the first time was progress, and those little words had made Belle and Rumplestiltskin’s hearts skip a beat. They held their son as he cried, the lunch forgotten, the hunger gone. All that mattered now was Gideon, and being there for him. 

Once he’d cried out all of his tears, Gideon felt more worn out than he’d ever been. He didn’t even realize that he’d dozed off on his mother’s shoulder until he felt her gently pushing him to lay down on the bed. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, trying and failing to bring his mother’s face into focus. He was too tired and his eyes were closing against his will.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Belle replied tenderly, leaning down to press a kiss against her son’s forehead. As soon as she started to pull back, Gideon grabbed her by the arm.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered. “Either of you.”

“We won’t,” Rumplestiltskin promised, taking one of Gideon’s hands in his. “Not today, not ever.”

Gideon smiled, and finally surrendered to sleep. As his breathing evened out, Rumplestiltskin conjured two chairs, one for himself and one for Belle, so that they could wait by Gideon’s side as long as he wanted them to. Belle sat as close to her husband as possible, and surprised him by resting her head against his shoulder.

“He’ll be okay, won’t he?” she asked.

Throughout their relationship, Belle had always been the one supporting Rumplestiltskin. He’d been the one who needed moral support, who was alone and lost and scared, and who needed her to keep him on the right path, to prevent him from backsliding and giving in to darkness. Parenthood seemed to have reversed their roles. Belle had never felt as fragile and scared as she felt now, while Rumplestiltskin seemed to draw strength from the responsibility of being a father again. This time, Belle was keenly aware that it was her who needed to lean on Rumplestiltskin, psychologically just as much as she was doing physically. 

“Of course he will,” Rumplestiltskin said reassuringly, tearing his gaze away from his son to look at the woman he loved. “The Black Fairy has hurt him in the past, but we’re here now, and she isn’t. He can start healing now, with our help.”

“I know I said and did terrible things to you the last few weeks,” Belle admitted. She still thought he had behaved horribly, but she had to admit she had wronged him lots of times as well. “And I want to apologize. You’re a wonderful father, and I should have never doubted that. I don’t know what I’d do without your support.”

Rumplestiltskin looked at her in slight awe, his chest swelling with pride and happiness at the thought that Belle considered him a good parent. That’s all he’d ever wanted to be. “It’s alright, Belle. You were as scared for Gideon as I was, and we both made mistakes because of that fear. I’m just glad that I can be of help now, and that we are working together for him.”

“I don’t just want him to be okay. I want _us_ to be okay as well,” Belle said in a whisper, almost scared of the dream she’d just given voice to.

“You do?” Rumplestiltskin asked, unbelievingly.

“If you want to, of course,” Belle added, feeling suddenly uncertain. What if his feelings for her had changed?

Rumplestiltskin smiled, daring to wrap his free arm around Belle’s waist, gently pulling her closer. 

“Of course I want to, sweetheart,” he murmured in her ear. “I’ll always want to. I promise that this time things will be different; this time we’ll be a proper family, and we’ll be happy.”

“I know.” Belle turned her head to press a light kiss on his jaw; another little step forward, and a promise for the future. “I trust you.”


End file.
